


Happy Birthday, Jemma

by AchillesMonkey



Series: Care and Comfort - AoS Non-Sexual Age Play Stories [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Angst, Baking, Birthday Cake, Brain Injury, But he gets called out for it, Canon Disabled Character, Caretaking, Comfort Toys, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Coulson, Diapers, Emotional Dysregulation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Lability, Explicit Language, Expressive Aphasia, Fitz Crying, Fitz Needs a Hug, Fitz verbally abusing the lab assistants, Frozen Spoilers, Gen, Jemma's Birthday Video, Jemma's birthday, Little Fitz, Little Skye, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Age Play, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stimming, Swearing, Takes place between seasons 1 and 2, Team as Family, Temper Tantrums, Thumb-sucking, angry fitz, coping skills, internalized ableism, mama may, meltdowns, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5265365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AchillesMonkey/pseuds/AchillesMonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo is sad that Jemma is away visiting her family on her birthday, so Skye suggests they do something to celebrate. This takes place between seasons 1 and 2. This fic contains non-sexual age play between Daddy Coulson, Mama May, Little Skye, and Little Fitz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Idea

**Author's Note:**

> My original idea was a nice fluffy 'let's bake Jemma a birthday cake' family fic. Then Fitz came and turned it into an angsty look at how trauma, his brain injury, and Jemma leaving affected him. So enjoy! 
> 
> Also, I tried my best to Britpick the parts in Leo's POV, but I'm American so it probably won't be 100% correct.

SKYE

 

Skye can hear the sound of objects being thrown as she approaches the lab. She hurries past the lab assistants who have moved into the hallway, ignores their whispered mutterings, and enters the lab, ducking as a jar of something flies over her head and smashes into the wall.

“Fitz!” she calls, approaching slowly, her hands up. “Fitz, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He’s leaning against the desk, palms pressed flat on top. Skye can see them trembling even from a few feet away. He’s stopped throwing things now. He’s muttering to himself and Skye doesn’t think he’s aware of her presence yet.

“Fitz?” she says again, a bit louder. He takes a deep breath and turns to face her, a distressed look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“I . . . I . . . I . . . I know the . . . the . . . the answer,” he says, gesturing at a pile of papers on the floor. “I . . . I just . . . it won’t work. I . . . the words . . . they . . .”

“It’ll be okay, Fitz,” Skye says in what she hopes is a soothing tone. “Why don’t you sleep on it? Maybe the words will come easier in the morning.”

“I . . . I have to . . .”

“It’s almost dinnertime anyway. It’s time to stop work for the day. Come with me. I’ll find us something to eat and after we can go to my room and watch some cartoons or something.”

Fitz takes another deep breath. “Yeah,” he says.

Skye takes his hand and leads him out of the lab. The assistants stare at them and she glares back. “Go clean up in there and then you can go home,” she orders. The group immediately heads back into the lab and Skye takes Fitz to the kitchen.

May is in the kitchen when they enter, standing by the center island drinking from a mug. She’s the only one in there and Skye immediately feels a sense of relief when she sees her. _Mommy will fix it,_ she thinks.

May smiles at them as she places her mug on the island. “Hello, Skye, Leo,” she greets them. “Are you kids hungry?”

“Yes,” Skye answers as she brings Leo to the table. He sits down automatically and brings his fist to his mouth, chewing his knuckle.

May takes a bowl of grapes from the refrigerator and sets it on the table. “Snack on the grapes, Leo,” she orders gently but firmly as she tugs his hand away from his mouth. “I’ll make us dinner.”

Skye sits on the counter, watching as May gathers what she needs. “How bad was it?” May asks softly.

“Probably a 4 on the Fitz scale,” Skye whispers. “He was throwing things when I got there. The assistants didn’t look too freaked, so I don’t think he shouted at them this time. I told them to clean up the mess and then they could go home.”

May is making grilled cheese and Skye watches as she butters the bread. She has to pee, but she doesn’t feel big enough to go to the bathroom without a grown-up. _I can wait,_ she decides and puts her thumb in her mouth. She sucks it a few times before pulling it out, glancing anxiously at the kitchen’s entrance.

Sometimes she wishes they could all live together in a house instead of on the base where there are people who don’t know about their little family. And the house would have Mommy and Daddy and Jemma and Leo and Skye and they would never have to leave on missions and could just spend all day playing. Skye knows it will never happen, but it’s fun to daydream.

Coulson enters the kitchen just as May is putting the final grilled cheese on a plate. “Da—Coulson!” Skye quickly corrects herself, aware that anyone can walk by the kitchen at any time. She does let herself open her arms for a hug though. “You’re back.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, hugging her and kissing her forehead. “May.”

“Coulson,” May acknowledges him.

“Hi, Leo,” Coulson says and Skye looks over to the table where Leo is sitting. He glances up at his name, but doesn’t respond. He goes back to staring off into space while his hands flutter near his chest.

“Any chance of a grilled cheese for me?” Coulson asks hopefully.

“I’ll make you one,” May answers. “Take the baby to the bathroom while I do it.”

Skye looks at her in surprise. How does Mommy always know when she has to pee? Daddy lifts her down from the counter and she follows him to the bathroom down the hall. She feels big enough that he can wait outside while she uses it. She washes her hands and then follows him back to the kitchen where Mommy is setting out plates and glasses on the table.

 

LEO

 

He’s brought back to the present when May puts a plate in front of him. There’s food on it and he stares at it as he tries desperately to remember what the food is called. It’s cut into four pieces and kind of a golden-brown color. _Cheese_. He finally comes up with. May puts a glass in front of him and pours a white liquid into it. _Milk._ He remembers that one.

He feels a mix of relief and embarrassment when she puts a straw in his drink. Sometimes his hands shake too much to hold the glass and he spills the drink all down himself or worse, drops the glass. Skye gets a straw in her milk too and that helps lessen Leo’s embarrassment. It’s a kid thing now, not a Fitz is broken thing.

Skye and Coulson come back into the kitchen—Leo hadn’t even noticed they’d left—and they begin eating. He picks up one of the pieces of cheese and takes a bite. It’s good. He focuses on eating and lets the conversation wash over him. He doesn’t need to pay attention right now.

“Tomorrow’s 9/11—” It’s Coulson that says it. Nine-Eleven. That triggers something in his brain. 9/11—it’s a date, an American date. It’s important. Leo knows that it’s important, but the why is just out of reach. It’s infuriating. He wants to throw something, but then Skye and Coulson and May will give him pitying looks and he hates that as much as he hates struggling to find words.

“Simmons.” The answer comes to him and he blurts it out interrupting whatever Skye is saying. They turn to look at him. “9/11,” he explains. “September eleventh, it’s Simmons’ birthday. She’ll be . . . she’ll be . . .” Where had Simmons gone? She isn’t with him anymore, that much he knows, “with her parents,” he remembers. She’d gone to visit her parents. “She’ll like, er, er, er, getting to, er, see them, for once. On her birthday with me she usually is.” The words come out in the wrong order, but the others seem to understand what he means.

“We should do something,” Skye says.

“Like what?” Coulson asks.

“Celebrate! We can make a video or something and send it to her, so she knows we love her.”

“Cake,” Leo says. “We . . . we . . . we always have cake.”

“We can bake a cake!” Skye says enthusiastically. “What kind of cake, Leo?”

“Er . . .” Good question. He knows that he knows the answer. “Er . . .”

“Maybe chocolate?” Skye suggests.

Chocolate. Yeah. Chocolate is good. British chocolate, though, not the nasty American chocolate that tastes like sick. “No,” he shakes his head. “Er . . . sugar . . . er . . . white . . . er . . .”

“Vanilla?” It’s May who suggests the right word.

“Vanilla, yeah.”

“We could make a TARDIS cake!” Skye says.

TARDIS. Yeah. He remembers him and Jemma watching the new Doctor Who together at the Academy. They’re on the Twelfth Doctor now. He’s Scottish, from Glasgow, and Leo likes hearing the familiar accent. “Yeah,” he says out loud, “TARDIS cake.”

“Okay,” Coulson says. “We’ll go to the store in the morning to get what we need.”

Leo stops paying attention at that and finishes his dinner. He goes back to his room after. Skye wants him to go with her and watch cartoons, but Leo doesn’t want to. The bright colors hurt his eyes and he’s tired now. He crawls onto his bed and pulls his monkey out from under the pillow, cuddling it close to him. Sleep doesn’t come easily, however.

 

SKYE

 

She follows Mommy back to their bedroom after dinner. Daddy disappears off into his office. Leo goes to his room. Skye wants him to come with her and Mommy, but he doesn’t. She wants Daddy to come too, but he doesn’t.

“Daddy’s been away a lot,” she comments as Mommy changes her into a diaper.

“He’ll be around tomorrow,” Mommy says.

“I wish he was around all the time.”

“Let’s watch a movie,” Mommy suggests. “What would you like?”

“Frozen,” Skye decides.

Mommy puts it on the television in her room and they cuddle together on the bed as they watch it. The characters make Skye think of her family. She’s like Elsa, but without the magic powers. Jemma is Anna and Leo is Kristoff. Ward is definitely Hans, the smug jerkface who tricks everyone. It makes Skye sad to think of Jemma all alone on her birthday. Leo thinks she’s visiting her parents, but Skye knows she’s on an assignment alone. Skye has spent quite a few birthdays alone with no one acknowledging the day. It sucks.

“I’m glad we’re doing something for Jemma,” she tells Mommy later that night when they’re in bed. “It will make her happy. I think she could probably use some happiness right now.”

“I’m glad too,” Mommy says. “You’re a good sister to have thought of it, Skye.”


	2. The Grocery Store

LEO

 

He’s been awake for several hours by the time Coulson knocks on his door thanks to a nightmare that had woken him at half three in the morning and left him remembering the dark of the ocean every time he closed his eyes.

“Come in,” he says as he works on buttoning his shirt. It had been going well, but then he missed a button, so now he has to redo it. He’s slow in the morning; his brain takes a while to wake up and remember how to make his limbs move. Coulson enters. He’s dressed in his usual suit and it makes Leo feel inadequate and underdressed.

“Good morning, Leo,” Coulson says with a gentle smile. “How are you?” Leo’s fingers slip on the button and he curses in response. “Can I help?”

Leo scowls at the floor, trying hard to hold back the tears that come to his eyes so easily now. He should be able to do it himself. _It’s okay to need help, Fitz._ Jemma’s voice sounds in his head and he takes a deep breath to get his emotions under control. He nods and Coulson steps forward and begins buttoning up Leo’s shirt.

“If you want to be little today, you can,” Coulson tells him. “It might help.” He finishes buttoning Leo’s shirt and Leo puts a cardigan on over it. It’s grey and comfortable and the sleeves are a bit too long, which he likes.

He considers Coulson’s offer as he fiddles with the sleeves, getting them to where he likes them. They have little holes in them from where he’s chewed. He feels ashamed that he enjoys being taken care of so much. He’s a man; he should be the one taking care of others. But it’s nice to let go sometimes, to let someone else make decisions and worry about responsibility, especially after his brain betrayed him and made it hard to make decisions.

“—don’t have to do anything that makes you feel uncomfor—”

“Yeah,” Leo interrupts Coulson, making his decision.

“Okay,” Coulson says and puts a hand on Leo’s shoulder. He looks like he’s about to say more, but Leo’s alarm on his phone goes off, reminding him to take his medication. “Have you eaten breakfast?” Coulson asks.

Does candy count? He’d eaten some of the sweets he has hidden under his bed—a leftover habit from childhood when his mum was really strict about his sugar intake. He shakes his head in answer to Coulson’s question. One of his meds needs to be taken with food.  “Okay,” Coulson says, “you take your medication and come to the kitchen. I’ll make us breakfast and then we can go to the store and get what we need to bake the cake. How does that sound?”

Leo doesn’t answer with words, but turns to his dresser where his pill bottles stay. He hears Coulson leaving the room as he opens the bottles. It takes him a few tries because the tops are child safety tops, which he thinks is bloody stupid putting safety tops on a bottle for a grown man with damaged hands who doesn’t even live with children. He manages though and swallows all the pills at once. He takes a drink from a water bottle he keeps next to his pills and then heads out to the kitchen.

Coulson is scrambling eggs at the stove. He’s the only one in the room. Leo stands awkwardly just inside the doorway, unsure if he should offer to help or not. “Why don’t you write out the shopping list while I make breakfast?” Coulson suggests, and Leo is happy to have something to do.

He sits on a stool at the island in the middle of the kitchen and gets out his phone, pulling up the notes app. “What, er, what—” Coulson answers before he can get the words out and he’s a bit annoyed that the man won’t let him finish.

“We’ll need cake flour,” he pauses to let Leo type it down, “sugar, vanilla extract,” another pause, “baking powder, frosting,” another pause, “eggs, milk,” another pause, “salt, butter,” Coulson pauses again, “I think that’s it.” He finishes cooking breakfast and sets down two plates with scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit, one in front of Leo and the other in the spot next to him. “Do you want orange juice to drink? We also have apple and cranberry.”

“Apple,” Leo says and Coulson pours a glass for him. He doesn’t add a straw and Leo is too embarrassed to ask for one. He’ll just have to concentrate hard on not spilling it. He waits until Coulson sits down before he starts to eat.

After they finish—Leo feels very proud when he is successful in his quest to not spill his juice—Coulson puts the plates in the dishwasher and they walk to the place with the cars. There’s an agent that’s new to the team there. He’s tall and black and smiles at Leo as Coulson makes his way to Lola.

“Agent Fitz and I are running an errand,” Coulson tells the smiling agent. Leo doesn’t know his name yet. “May is in charge while we’re gone.”

“Yes, sir,” the man says. “Are you driving separately, Agent Fitz?” he asks when Leo doesn’t immediately follow Coulson to the car.

Leo looks up at him nervously and then back to Lola where Coulson is waiting patiently. “Er, no,” he says and hurries over to the car. He gets into the passenger side cautiously. He’s never been in Lola before. Skye has, loads of times, but never Leo or Jemma.

“Seatbelt,” Coulson prompts him and he puts it on.

The drive is pleasant. Coulson puts the radio on a classic rock station and Leo closes his eyes, enjoying the sun and the wind on his face. When they finally park (after Coulson takes the long route to the store and drives around the car park a few times) Leo gets out and looks around. There aren’t very many cars, which means the store will be fairly empty. He’s relieved.

It’s difficult being out in public now with his injury. He looks normal still, so people are surprised when he has trouble with words or he drops something or he starts crying because the brain injury messed with his emotional control. He thinks it would be easier facing strangers if he had some visible injury that told them he was damaged without him having to look stupid.

“Are you ready, Leo?” Coulson asks, breaking him from his thoughts.

“Yeah,” he says and follows the man to the entrance. He wraps one arm around his middle and props the other arm on it so he can chew his sleeve subtly.

Coulson gets a trolley and enters through the automatic doors. Leo trails closely behind the man as he goes straight for the baking aisle. “Do you have the list?” he asks and Leo has to stop chewing his sleeve in order to pull out his phone.

“Cake flour,” Leo tells him. It’s the first thing on the list. He tightens his grip on the phone as his hand trembles. Coulson finds a bag and puts it in the trolley. The sugar, vanilla extract, baking powder, and salt soon follow. There isn’t any already blue frosting available, so they choose white vanilla frosting and blue food coloring.

“What’s left?” Coulson asks.

Leo checks his phone. “Eggs, milk, and butter.”

Coulson’s text alert chimes and he pulls his own phone out of his pocket. “May wants us to pick up more diapers for Skye,” he says after reading the text. Leo immediately feels uncomfortable and it must show on his face because Coulson is quick to placate him. “While I get those, why don’t you go ahead to the deli and start picking out some meat and cheese we can eat for lunch while we make the cake?”

Leo nods and they make their way out of the aisle. Leo heads to the back of the store where the deli is located while Coulson goes to the baby aisle. He shakes his head when the person behind the counter asks if she can help him and busies himself browsing the selection. He’s doing fine until he notices the sign proclaiming prosciutto is on sale and then all of a sudden he’s crying and biting his wrist through his cardigan to stifle the sobs.

The person behind the counter is looking at him in alarm and he can tell that she’s asking him something, but he can’t focus on her right now. He feels a strong arm wrap around his shoulders and is relieved to hear Coulson’s voice say his name. “Oh, Leo.”

“He’ll be okay,” he hears Coulson tell the deli woman. “We’ll just leave this here for now and we’ll be back in a moment.” They leave the trolley and Coulson guides Leo out of the store to a bench in front of it.

They sit and Leo allows himself to rest his head against Coulson’s shoulder. Coulson keeps his arm around Leo’s back, his hand resting firmly on Leo’s neck with his thumb stroking his neck comfortingly as Leo cries.

Leo can’t focus on anything other than his own crying and the thought of Jemma running through his head. He knows it’s selfish of him to want her here, especially when she’s off visiting her family. They so rarely get to see their families now; he shouldn’t begrudge her the chance to have a holiday. But he misses her. He wonders if she left because of what he told her when they were trapped in the ocean. It’s the only reason he can come up with.

He can hear Coulson’s heartbeat, strong and steady, and focuses on that as he works to stop sobbing and get himself under control. Coulson is silent as he cries and Leo likes the pressure of his hand against his neck. He sniffs loudly and takes a shuddering breath as the sobs stop. Tears keep running down his cheeks, though, and he doesn’t move from his spot against Coulson’s side. Coulson doesn’t push him away either; he lets him stay there until Leo makes the decision to sit up.

He rubs his eyes with his hand and Coulson hands him a handkerchief from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He uses it to wipe his eyes and cheeks and then hands it back as he wipes his nose on his sleeve.

“You know you can use the handkerchief to wipe your nose too,” Coulson comments as he takes the handkerchief from Leo.

Leo shrugs and starts chewing his knuckle. He leans against Coulson’s side and the man wraps an arm around him again, pressing a kiss to Leo’s head. Leo knows they probably shouldn’t do this in public, but he can’t bring himself to care right now.

“We need to finish shopping,” Coulson says after they sit there for a few minutes. Leo’s heart starts beating faster as he becomes anxious. He can’t go back in there and face the woman behind the deli counter after his outburst. It’s too embarrassing. 

“I don’t want to,” he tells Coulson and his voice sounds childish to his ears.

“Will you be okay if I go in and finish while you wait here?” Coulson asks. Leo doesn’t want Coulson to leave; he wants to stay in Coulson’s arms forever. But he nods and sits up. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can,” Coulson tells him. “Wait here; don’t leave the bench.”

Leo puts his fingers in his mouth, chewing as he watches Coulson go inside. An elderly woman stares at him as she shuffles past with her cane and he takes his fingers out of his mouth, feeling his face turn red. He pulls out his phone and looks for a game to distract him.

It doesn’t really work. He keeps checking the time to see how long it’s been since Coulson left. Seventeen minutes later, the automatic doors open and Coulson pushes the trolley out, their groceries bagged inside. “I’m so sorry, Leo. I got stuck behind someone with a bunch of coupons.” He reaches into one of the bags and pulls out a Toblerone bar, handing it to Leo. “I thought maybe something sweet would help.”

Leo holds onto the trolley handle as they walk back to Lola and Coulson puts his hand over his. He helps Coulson put the bags into the boot and then gets in the passenger seat, absently running his fingers along the edge of the triangle box of the Toblerone still in his hand. He opens it and breaks off one of the chocolate triangles, taking a bite as his eyes find Coulson who is returning the trolley.

He offers a piece to Coulson when he returns to the car and the man takes it with a smile and a “thank you.” Coulson eats the piece of chocolate and then buckles Leo’s seatbelt for him since Leo has yet to do it himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I am going out of town for the Thanksgiving holiday today, so the next chapter will not be posted until next week. I hope my American readers have a happy Thanksgiving, and my non-American readers have a happy random Thursday!


	3. The Cake

PHIL

 

When they get back to the base, Leo and Phil take the groceries to the kitchen. Phil instructs Leo to start unloading the bags while he takes the bag with Skye’s diapers to Melinda’s room. Skye and May are playing Connect Four when he enters. Skye smiles widely at him and greets him with a happy “Hi, Daddy!” looking adorable in her sweatpants and a Captain America t-shirt with her hair falling messily around her shoulders. It makes his heart ache. He’s spent most of the past few months on an airplane flying all over the world searching for allies. He’s spent barely any time at The Playground and even less time as Daddy.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, putting the bag with the diapers on the dresser and going over to her. “Are you having fun with Mommy?”

“Yes. I’m winning!”

“Very good,” he praises her as he strokes her hair. “Leo and I are going to start working on the cake. I got some deli meat and cheese at the store. I thought we could do a simple lunch while we bake.”

“Good, I’m hungry.” Skye starts cleaning up the game and May stands up, moving to put the diapers away.

“Leo had a meltdown at the store,” Phil tells her softly. “The crying kind, not the angry kind.”

“We’ll keep him close today,” Melinda says.

Skye walks between them as they make their way to the kitchen. Her hands keep bumping theirs as though she wants to hold them, but isn’t allowing herself to. They reach the kitchen where Leo is talking to himself. “You’ll like the cake—” they hear him say.

May starts working on their lunch, slicing and arranging the meat and cheese and apples Phil had bought. He has Skye and Leo wash their hands while he preheats the oven and gets out the pan, electric mixer, measuring spoons and cups, and sifter. He pulls up the recipe he had found on his tablet and starts opening the bags of ingredients.

He hands Skye a set of measuring spoons. “Skye, I want you to put two teaspoons of baking powder in the mixing bowl and then half a teaspoon of salt.” He hands Leo a measuring cup and points him to the bag of flour. “Leo, you can help me sift the flour.”

Leo scoops a cup of flour and pours it into the sifter that Phil holds over the mixing bowl. His hands are shaking and some of the flour ends up on the counter. He gives Phil an anxious look and Phil smiles back reassuringly. “It’s okay.”

“What next, Daddy?” Skye asks.

Phil checks the recipe. “One and a half cups of sugar,” he says. “You’ll have to wait until Leo’s finished with the flour.”

Leo finishes putting the flour into the sifter and hands the cup to Skye. He turns the handle on the sifter watching as the flour drops into the mixing bowl. With all the dry ingredients in the bowl, Phil turns on the electric mixer to blend them together. Leo and Skye start eating the slices of meat, cheese, and apple while he mixes in the butter.

Phil gets another mixing bowl from the cabinet and has Skye measure out the milk and vanilla extract into it. “Leo, do you want to crack the eggs?”

Leo looks at him anxiously. “My . . . my . . . my hands,” he says and holds up his right hand, which is visibly trembling. “Won’t . . . er . . . won’t . . . er . . . work.”

“I’ll help you,” Phil offers. He puts an egg in Leo’s hand and keeps his own over Leo’s. Together, they crack the egg on the side of the bowl and he helps Leo pull the shell apart so that the inside bit can fall into the bowl. They crack two more eggs and mix the wet ingredients together with a fork. Phil has Skye help him add the mixture to the mixing bowl. When the batter is complete, Phil puts it into the pan and then puts the pan into the oven.

“Good work, kids,” he says brightly when they’re finished. They sit around the island and eat lunch. It’s nice and comfortable and Phil wishes he could take his family away from their unconventional lifestyle to a home where they wouldn’t have to worry about an evil terrorist organization and alien threats. Unfortunately though, reality exists and Phil has to go back to it once they finish lunch.

 

SKYE

 

After lunch, Daddy has to go to his office to work, Mommy starts washing the dishes, and Leo just sits there looking anxious and wringing his hands. He looks vulnerable and Skye thinks that he’ll have to be her little brother today instead of her big brother.

“We should figure out what we want to do in the video,” Skye tells him. “Should we just show her the cake and say happy birthday?”

“It needs . . . er . . . er . . . er . . . it needs . . .” Leo’s mouth moves soundlessly as he searches for the word he wants. Something gets his attention to his left and he focuses on that. “Candles!” he comes up with, nodding at something that Skye can’t see.

“Candles, okay,” Skye agrees. “We’ll blow out candles for Jemma. And sing to her?”

“Yeah, sing to her,” Leo echoes. He frowns. “No, no singing. Can’t sing, sound like a . . . er . . . a . . . er . . . a . . . er . . . a thing.” He sighs. “I want . . .” he trails off and his brow furrows as he tries to remember what he wants to say. “Want to . . . to . . . to tell her a . . . er . . . a message, but not . . . not . . . not like . . . er . . . like this.” He gestures at his face and looks at Skye pleadingly as if begging her to understand him.

“You don’t want to stutter?” Skye asks.

“Yeah.”

Skye thinks for a moment before coming up with an idea. “We could write it down and then you can memorize it and maybe that way you won’t stumble when you say it.” Leo considers it and then nods. “Great. I’ll go get paper.”

She leaves and comes back with a stack of blank paper and a box of crayons. She and Leo move to the table and she takes out a green crayon. “What do you want to say?”

Leo stares at the paper, his brows furrowed. “Happy birthday, Jemma,” he says finally. Skye writes it down and waits while Leo stares off into space, fingers rubbing his lips.

“How about ‘It’s not the same without you here’?” she suggests finally when it looks like Leo isn’t going to say anything more. He nods and she writes it down.

“Say hi to . . . er . . . to . . . er . . .” he pauses and seems to be listening to something Skye can’t hear, “your parents,” he says, nodding, “for me,” he adds, “and I’ll . . . I’ll . . .” he stares at something to his left again and smiles. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Happy birthday, Jemma. It’s not the same without you here. Say hi to your parents for me and I’ll see you soon.” Skye reads out once she’s finished writing it down.

Leo nods. “Yeah,” he says.

“Great, now you just need to memorize it.” She slides the piece of paper over to him. “Why don’t we take it one sentence at a time? Start with ‘Happy birthday, Jemma’.”

 

MELINDA

 

She scrubs at the mixing bowl with a sponge as Skye and Leo work at the table. It’s domestic and safe and Melinda wishes that every day could be like this one. The only thing missing is Jemma, her third baby. Her stomach twists with anxiety each time she thinks of Jemma on her mission to Hydra. She and Coulson had made the decision to give the other kids as much information as they could handle. For Skye, that means she was told Jemma was going on an assignment. For Leo, that means he was told that she was going to visit her parents. Only she, Coulson, and Jemma know the full truth.

She finishes washing the dishes and turns to watch her children. Skye is having Leo recite each sentence of his message until he can say it without stumbling or forgetting. He has the ‘happy birthday, Jemma’ down and they’re working on the ‘it’s not the same without you here.’

“It’s not the same without you here.” Skye says clearly.

“It’s not the . . . er . . . the . . .” Leo’s getting agitated. He’s shaking his leg and his hand flaps near his face as he tries to remember what comes next.

“Take a breath, Leo,” Melinda prompts him gently.

He does so and tries again. “Happy birthday, Jemma. It’s not the . . .” he pauses and finds the word, “same . . . wi . . . wi . . . without . . . er . . . without . . .” He pauses, trying hard to remember the next word, then lets out a frustrated growl, grabs the crayon box, and throws it across the room.

“Leo!” Melinda calls his name loudly and firmly and he flinches, freezing as he reaches for something else to throw. “Time for a break,” she announces matter-of-factly. “Skye, Leo and I are going to take a walk. You can wait here until we come back or go visit with Coulson.”

“I’m gonna go find Daddy,” Skye says, her voice small. She gets up and walks quickly out of the room.

Leo won’t meet her eyes. His head is hanging and he’s staring at the floor. Melinda can see a tear trickling down his cheek. “You’re not in trouble, Leo,” she says gently, going over and sitting in the chair next to him. She tenderly lifts his chin until he’s looking at her. She wipes away the tear with her thumb. “You’re getting frustrated and angry. Now you need to calm down, so we’re going to take a walk in order to take a break from this. When we get back, we can work on your message some more or we can do something else. It’s your choice. And if you get frustrated again, we can take another break. We can take as much time as we need.”

Leo takes a shuddery breath and scrubs his face with his hands. Melinda checks on the cake, allowing him a moment to collect himself. There are 8 minutes left before the timer goes off. She texts Phil letting him know to come get the cake out of the oven while she takes care of Leo.

“Ready?” she asks, putting her phone in her pocket.

Leo nods and stands up. They leave the kitchen and walk along the halls in silence. She makes sure they avoid the parts of the base where there are likely to be people. After about fifteen minutes she takes them back to the kitchen. The cake is cooling on top of the stove and Coulson is at the counter mixing the food coloring into the frosting. Skye sits at the table coloring.

“Do you want to work on saying your message some more or would you like to play with Skye?” Melinda asks Leo as he goes over and sits next to Skye.

“Message,” he says as he picks up a red crayon. He writes SORRY on a piece of paper and puts it in front of Skye. Skye writes IT’S OK underneath and then crumples it up.

May sits next to Leo and picks up the piece of paper with his message to Jemma written on it. “Happy birthday, Jemma. It’s not the same without you here.” She pauses to let Leo repeat it.

“Happy birthday, Jemma. It’s not . . . the same . . . with . . . without . . . er . . . without . . . er . . . without you . . . er . . . without you . . . here.” He takes a deep breath and tries again. “It’s not the same . . . without . . . without . . . without you here. It’s not the same without . . . you here. It’s not the same without you here.” He gives May a pleased smile when he gets it out.

“Very good, Leo!” she praises, smiling back. “Do you want to move on to the next sentence or try the first two again?”

“Try again,” he decides. “Happy birthday, Jemma. It’s not the same without you here. Happy birthday, Jemma. It’s not the same without you here. Happy birthday, Jemma. It’s not the same without you here.” He nods, satisfied that he has it down. “Next.”

“Say hi to your parents for me and I’ll see you soon.” May reads out.

“Say hi to . . . to . . . to . . .”

“Your parents,” May offers. He scowls and starts shaking his leg. “Deep breath and try again, Leo.”

He breathes in slowly and then lets it out. “Happy birthday, Jemma. It’s not the same without you here. Say . . . say hi to . . . to your . . . say hi . . . _fuck_!” He curses and slams his fist on the table.

Skye flinches and Phil yells “LEO!” in a harsh, angry tone that makes Leo flinch and start to cry. Melinda gives Phil her best ‘shut-up-and-let-me-handle-this’ glare. Getting angry and scolding Leo won’t do any good.

“We’ll take another break,” she tells Leo in an even tone, putting a hand on his shoulder. She puts a blank piece of paper in front of him. “I want you to draw a picture for me, okay?” He sniffs and nods, wiping away tears as he stares at the blank paper in front of him. She squeezes his shoulder once and gets up, going to Phil.

“You can’t yell at him like that,” she hisses so the kids won’t hear, letting her displeasure show on her face.

“It was a reflex,” Phil explains in a whisper. “He scared Skye.”

“And then you scared both of them.”

Phil goes back to mixing up the frosting and Melinda waits, watching Leo as he colors. He’s scribbling with the blue crayon, filling in the whole piece of paper. Phil finishes the frosting, washes his hands, and goes over to Leo, sitting down in the chair Melinda had vacated.

“Hey, buddy, I’m sorry I yelled,” he says gently, placing a hand on Leo’s back. “I shouldn’t have done it.” Leo glances at him and continues coloring. “What are you drawing?” Leo doesn’t respond. “I see you’re using a lot of blue.” When Leo continues ignoring him, Phil gives up and goes to check on the cake.

“The cake should be ready to frost in a few minutes,” he announces. Skye lets out a little cheer and abandons her drawing to come get a hug from Phil.

“Daddy, I’m wet,” she mumbles around her thumb as she rests her head on his shoulder.

“Okay, let’s go get you changed. When we come back, we’ll frost the cake.”

They leave the room and Melinda goes back to Leo. Most of his drawing is blue scribbles, but there is white space in the bottom left corner and the top right corner, with a stick figure in each. The bottom left stick figure has short, curly, yellow hair and a straight line for his mouth. The top right stick figure has long brown hair and is smiling.

While she’s looking at the drawing, Leo uncrumples the piece of paper he’d written on before and taps the SORRY on it. Melinda taps the IT’S OK in response and then Leo taps the paper with his message on it.

“Happy birthday, Jemma. It’s not the same without you here.” He says clearly. He looks at Melinda expectantly.

“Say hi to your parents for me and I’ll see you soon.” Melinda recites.

Leo takes a deep breath and his brow furrows as he concentrates. “Say hi to . . . your . . . er . . .your parents . . . for me . . . and . . . I’ll . . . er . . . see you . . . soon. Say hi to your parents for me and . . . and . . . and I’ll see . . . er . . . see you soon. Say hi to your parents for me and I’ll . . . see you . . . soon. Say hi to your parents for me and I’ll see you soon.” He beams happily at her when he gets it. “Say hi to your parents for me and I’ll see you soon.”

Coulson and Skye come back in and Leo turns to face them. “Happy birthday, Jemma. It’s not the same without you here. Say hi to your parents for me and I’ll see you soon.” He recites perfectly.

“You did it!” Skye exclaims and hurries over to give him a hug.

“Very good, Leo!” Phil says warmly. “Now, are you kids ready to frost the cake?”

“Yes,” Skye says and she takes Leo’s hand, pulling him up. “Come on, Leo.”

Phil hands them both spatulas and they get to work. Skye manages to end up with frosting all over her while Leo is able to get all the frosting on the cake. When they’ve covered the cake with the blue frosting, Skye turns and wipes her frosting covered hand on Leo’s face.

Leo lets out a surprised squawk and immediately retaliates, sticking his fingers into the bowl and scooping out a small amount of frosting which he ends up putting in Skye’s hair after she ducks to avoid him. Melinda and Phil watch in amusement for a few minutes before stepping in.

“Okay, kids,” Phil says, making a T with his hands, “that’s enough. We still have some more to do.”

Melinda takes Skye back to their room to clean her up while Phil and Leo work on turning the blue frosted cake into a TARDIS. “You’re a mess,” she comments with affection as she helps Skye wash the frosting out of her hair.

Skye hums in agreement around her thumb. “But you love me anyway,” she says, looking at Melinda with an anxious expression, as if expecting her to deny it.

“I love you because you’re you,” Melinda tells her firmly, “because you’re my Skye, my baby, and nothing will ever change that.”

“And Leo and Jemma too?”

“Yes, Leo and Jemma too.”

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously Leo's message to Jemma comes from the birthday video in the show and is not my creation. And if anyone is interested, this is the recipe I used to write about baking the cake: http://bakingbites.com/2005/10/happy-birthday-to-me/


	4. The Video

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, the words in the video in this chapter are taken from the video on the show and not created by me. And as a standard disclaimer, I don't own any of this.
> 
> Also, Leo uses the 'see-you-next-Tuesday' word in this chapter, so be prepared if you're upset by strong language.

LEO

 

The cake looks pretty good for having been made by three people with almost no baking experience, Leo thinks. It even mostly resembles a TARDIS. Jemma stands next to him as they look at it and voices her approval.

She had shown up that morning when they’d returned from the store and Coulson had left him alone to unpack the groceries. At first he’d been thrilled to see her and had excitedly told her all about the cake and what had been going on since she’d left. Then Coulson, May, and Skye had come in and he had realized that only he could see her.

It’s concerning, but not enough that he’s planning on telling anyone. They’d lock him away in a heartbeat and he’s not going to do anything that will jeopardize his spot in the lab. It’s the only place where he actually feels normal again, even though his brain constantly reminds him that he isn’t. Besides, he needs his best friend back, now more than ever. He needs the Jemma who helps him find his words and helps him calm down when he gets frustrated and doesn’t give him that pitying look every time he opens his mouth.

May is probably the best of his family at working with his differences instead of getting frustrated by them. Skye tries, but she gets this annoyingly patronizing tone when she tries to act like his big sister that makes him want to slap her. He would never of course, but the thought has crossed his mind. And Coulson—well, today has been the longest Leo’s spent with Coulson since . . . since . . . Leo can’t remember, that’s how long it’s been.

Coulson is the worst at dealing with him now. He gets frustrated too easily—which Leo finds ironic seeing as Leo’s the one with emotional lability—and yells, or he gets impatient and goes to find his answer elsewhere instead of waiting for Leo to get his sentence out. And he’s never around, which hurts more than Leo wants to admit. He finally gets a Da and then it’s taken away.

“Coulson was kind earlier,” Jemma reminds him. “He wasn’t cross at the grocery store.” That’s true. But those moments are few and far between.

“What do you think, Leo?” Coulson asks. “Does it look enough like the TARDIS that Jemma will know what it is?”

“Yes,” Jemma answers.

“Yes,” Leo echoes.

“Good.” May and Skye come back into the kitchen and Coulson rubs his hands together. “Okay, let’s do this!” He takes out his phone and hands it to Leo. “You’re going to be our cameraman, buddy.”

“Where are the candles?” Jemma asks from beside him.

“Candles?” Leo gets out.

“Um . . .” Coulson starts rummaging around in drawers and eventually comes up with a single blue candle that he sticks on the cake. Jemma makes an offended noise. “Okay, are we ready?”

Leo starts the video recording and Coulson brings the cake to the table. “Okay, Jemma, get ready to make a wish and we’ll blow out the candle for you.”

“Happy birthday, Jemma!” May and Skye call out.

Leo flips the camera so that it shows him. “Happy birthday, Jemma. It’s not the same without you here. Say hi to your parents for me and I’ll see you soon.”

He stops the recording and gives the phone back to Coulson. He, May, and Skye play the video back while Leo sits down at the table and rests his head on his arms. Being up since 3:30 in the morning is starting to catch up with him. May notices. She notices bloody everything. She comes over while Coulson and Skye start cutting the cake.

“It’s been a rough day today,” she comments, resting a cool hand on his neck. “You should go rest, have a nap.”

“Don’t want a nap,” he grumbles into his arms. He thinks about his bed and curling up under the warm blankets with his monkey. May can rub his back until he falls asleep and she is scary enough to chase the nightmares away. It would be nice. _No_ he tells himself firmly. He can’t let himself want that. It’s wrong.

“It’s not wrong, it’s good,” Jemma tells him and he remembers her with her dummy and bunny.

Leo sits up and rubs his eyes. They’ve started burning from tiredness. “I’m goin’ to the . . . to the . . .” the room with the science things—

“The lab,” Jemma supplies.

“The lab,” Leo echoes. He stands up and May lets him.

“Don’t you want cake, Leo?” Skye asks.

“Not hungry,” he says as he leaves.

The lab assistants give him a wide berth as he enters and goes to his desk to work on his problem from yesterday. It’s hard to concentrate through the tiredness and the sounds of the lab assistants working on their projects. The lights are buzzing and the machines are humming and he’s normally able to tune it all out, but today he just can’t.

He knows that he knows the answer to this problem, but the words just won’t come. Having Jemma there helps him get farther than he has before as she’s able to supply some of the words he needs, but not all of them. He’s just found an important word that will connect everything to the solution when a loud boom jerks it away from him. He whirls around to see a lab assistant looking terrified next to the binders he’d accidentally dropped.

Leo sees red. “YOU FUCKING EEJIT CUNT!” he shouts, slamming his fist on the desk and then pushing his own papers to the floor. He barely registers some of the lab assistants running out of the room, too focused on shouting abuse at the unfortunate man.

 

MELINDA

 

Melinda and Skye are sparring in the gym when three lab assistants burst in looking panicked. “Ma’am,” one calls out, slightly out of breath, “we need you in the lab. Dr. Fitz is—” she pauses, trying to find a polite way of saying ‘losing his shit,’ but May and Skye are already out of the room.

They can hear Fitz’s cursing from the hallway, his Scottish accent thicker than it usually is. They enter and May immediately takes stock of the situation. Fitz is red and angry, shouting at a man who is busy picking up papers that had burst out of a pile of binders spread out on the floor. There are more papers on the floor next to Fitz, which she assumes he pushed off in his anger. She would rate this tantrum as an 8 on the Fitz scale.

“Fitz!” May calls out loudly to be heard over the yelling. Skye moves to help the lab assistant with the binders while Melinda approaches her out of control son. “Fitz!” she calls out again, more sternly this time. She puts a hand on his shoulder and he tries to shrug her off, but she doesn’t let him. She tightens her grip and he stops shouting, turning to glare at her. “Come with me,” she orders, her tone allowing no arguments.

May takes him to her bedroom, making sure to go the longer route to allow him a bit more time to calm down. They enter and Melinda lets go of his shoulder as she closes the door. “Have a seat, Leo,” she tells him, motioning to the bed. He drops down, head hanging as he rubs his eyes. Melinda doesn’t speak, texting Skye to go to Leo’s room and get his monkey. Her cranky boy very obviously needs a nap so she’s going to make sure he gets one.

 

LEO

 

“’m sorry,” Leo breaks the silence.

“What time did you fall asleep last night?” May asks.

“Er . . .” Leo is a bit taken aback at the unexpected question. He has to think about the answer. He’d gone to bed right after dinner, but he hadn’t actually fallen asleep until much later. His mind kept him awake with thoughts of Jemma. “One, one-thirty?” he guesses.

“And what time did you wake up this morning?”

“Half-three,” he admits.

“Nightmares?”

Leo nods and then he’s crying, and he’s angry that he’s crying, so he punches the bed. He hates that the brain injury left him without any emotional control, that he starts to cry without any warning, or loses his temper over minor issues. May sits next to him and opens her arms and he lets himself curl up against her, crying into her shoulder. It’s different than when he cries in Coulson’s arms—May is smaller for one thing—but it’s just as comforting.

When he finally manages to stop, he sits up, rubbing his eyes roughly with the heels of his palms. They feel heavy from the crying and tiredness. Skye is in the room now. She’s holding his monkey and he reaches for it as May tugs his shoes off his feet. They’re slip-on shoes so he doesn’t have to deal with laces and they come off easily.

He cuddles the monkey close, locking away the grown-up part of his brain that likes to tell him how wrong and stupid this is. May pulls back the covers on the bed and he crawls in, letting her tuck him in. She sits in the middle of the bed with Leo lying on one side and Skye curling up on her other side with her thumb in her mouth. She strokes his hair and he’s asleep within minutes.

He wakes with a gasp, trying desperately to get the air he needs as the ocean swallows him. It’s dark, and he’s scared and crying, but then he hears a soothing voice talking to him, telling him that “you’re okay” and “you’re safe” and “you’re not in the ocean” and that “I need you to take slow, deep breaths for me, Leo.” He obeys and feels his racing heart start to slow down. The lamp on the bedside table turns on and he’s able to see.

“Time’s it?” he rasps out, his mouth dry.

“6:40,” May answers. She hands him a glass of water and he takes a drink, managing to spill half of it thanks to his damn shaking hands. He hands the glass back and rubs at his eyes. He still feels just as exhausted as before he fell asleep.

“Do you want to try going back to sleep?” May asks and he shakes his head.

“Won’t work,” he tells her. “I’ll . . . I’ll just . . .” He doesn’t have the words to finish his sentence, but May seems to understand without him saying.

“I’m hungry,” he tells her, bringing his cardigan sleeve to his mouth to chew.

“I’ll go get us dinner,” Mays says. “Do you want to wait here or come with me?”

He taps the bed to indicate ‘wait here’ and she nods and leaves. He’s alone in the room. Skye had been there when he fell asleep, but she’s gone now. He cuddles his monkey to his chest and talks to Jemma while he waits, telling her about the new Scottish Doctor Who.

He wishes it were real, that Jemma could actually be there and not just be a figment of his imagination. He wishes that The Doctor was real too and that he would show up in his TARDIS and take him back in time to when Ward was like the big brother he’d never had and Jemma was by his side and his brain worked like it should. And then The Doctor would take him to a planet populated by adorable monkeys, which definitely exists no matter what Jemma says.

May comes back with a plate full of sandwiches and two slices of Jemma’s birthday cake. He wants to eat the cake first, but she won’t let him. He’s reminded of his mum insisting that he eat his vegetables before he can have pudding and a sudden wave of homesickness comes over him.

May begins telling him stories about pranks she pulled while at the Academy and he’s grateful for the distraction. He even manages to tell a few stories of his own. Jemma finds them funny, but the more technical ones go over May’s head.

May lets him have the slice of cake after he’s eaten two sandwiches. It’s delicious. He wishes Jemma could have some. “When . . . when do you think Jemma will be back?” he asks May.

May sighs and her expression darkens slightly. “I don’t know,” she answers and there’s something in her tone that makes Leo feel anxious.

Leo is tired of feeling. He wants to go back to the lab where it’s familiar and he can concentrate on science with its logic that makes sense and no emotions to confuse him. He’s not sure if May will let him though, after his freak out earlier. “Can . . . can I . . . go back to the lab?”

May considers it. “Yes,” she says and Leo looks at her in surprise. “Only because the lab will be empty right now. I’ll go with you. And tomorrow you will need to apologize to Agent Saley.”

Leo nods. “Yeah.”

They go and the lab is blissfully quiet. Leo is able to concentrate without any distractions and solve the problem that has been torturing him for the past 24 hours. He smiles at May when he finally gets the answer and she smiles back. “Good work, kiddo.” She tells him, squeezing his shoulder.

They go back to his room—with a quick stop by May’s room to get his monkey—and May looks at the pill bottles on his dresser while he searches for pajamas. “You should make an appointment with your psychiatrist,” she comments. “Maybe adjusting your medication will help with your mood swings.”

Leo goes to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. When he returns, he climbs in bed and cuddles his monkey close. May tucks him in again and sits on the edge of the bed stroking his hair. “I want you to come and get me if you have a nightmare, or if you can’t sleep, or for any reason at all, understand?” He nods and she kisses his forehead. “Good night, Leo. I love you.”

She stays until he’s in that space in between awake and asleep. The door closing brings him back into the more awake part of the space. He opens his eyes to see Jemma in the room with him. She sits on the floor, leaning against his dresser. She smiles at him and he smiles back. “Happy birthday, Jemma,” he whispers before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading! And thanks to those who left kudos and/or comments.


End file.
